


Henry Van-Hoensbroeck

by EchoMist3477



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Absent Parents, Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Animagus, Child Abuse, Child Neglect, Daily Prophet, Dark Harry Potter, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, Grey Harry, Hurt/Comfort, Loss of Parent(s), M/M, Minor Character Death, Morally Grey Harry Potter, Original Character(s), Orphanage, Reincarnated Harry Potter, Reincarnation, Wizarding Wars (Harry Potter), Wizards, World War II
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-10-18
Updated: 2018-10-18
Packaged: 2019-08-03 20:58:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,686
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16333352
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EchoMist3477/pseuds/EchoMist3477
Summary: Some folks say that through your dreams your subconscious speaks to you; Harry was never one of those folk. He just thought that dreams are nothing more than a concoction of your day and thoughts…. well until Harry starts having dreams of a young boy who looks strangely alike to himself. To what lengths will Harry have to go to find out who this young man is, and when the truth finally comes out will Harry be able to cope with it?Van-Hoensbroeck: Dutch surname with aristocratic origins, dates back to the medieval era.





	1. -The Beginning-

**Author's Note:**

> Because this is the first chapter, the chapter is quite short. But worry not! for the next chapters will be longer -or at least I’ll try to make then longer. Enjoy!

“Remember Henry you mustn't be afraid, I'll merely be gone a few days,” a woman with dark curls and bright red lip gloss spoke as she practically dragged along a small boy. The woman’s feet moved speedily along the wet pavement, it was a wonder the child had not fallen over yet.

The boy gave a small squeeze to her gloved hand in answer. The woman stopped in her long strides and turned her head to aim a disgusted look at Henry. She opened her mouth but before she could say a single word a mighty wind roared at them as though to say keep moving. The woman’s perfect hairdo was undone. Not only did her curly hair trap white snowflakes in the tangles but with the rain turning to snow the hair began to be turned into ice crystals. The woman aimed her crystal blue eyes towards the heavens with a glare. Henry simply shivered as the woman started to drag him onwards once again while cursing the heavens under her breath.

They passed many streets in defly silence. Neither of them spoke a word, nor looked at any of the warm shops that they passed. They both knew where they were heading, there was no need to discuss anything. And as the pair of them turned a corner Henry froze; causing the woman to stumble backwards.

For standing there, a few meters away was none other then Wool’s orphanage. Henry’s heart sank lower than it already was. The raven haired boy closed his emerald eyes to not let the tears that threatened to run down his face fall. Even though he already knew his destination it still felt like some kind of betrayal. To be standing only meters away from a place he knew he would never come back from was completely different then imagining it. Henry opened his eyes as he felt a gentle tug on his arm.

He looked up and stared blankly at the woman. The woman clicked her tongue and pushed Henry through the gate, following close behind him. Henry carefully walked up the five icey steps before opening the door for the woman. No’ thank you’ was said.

To greet the two of them was a petite blond woman cradling a baby. She smiled warmly at them as she rocked the bundle in her arms. The blond slowly stood up from her chair and offered the baby to another caretaker who was in the hall.

“Hello there, what can I do for you?” Her voice came out huskier than any other woman’s voice Henry ever heard.

The frozen haired woman put a hand on Henry’s shoulder with a sad sigh, “this one here doesn't have any relatives and I am….incapable of taking care of him.”

The blond female gave her a knowing nod before signaling the pair to follow her. The petite woman walked out of the entrance hall and continued forwards. As they walked past a staircase Henry felt as though he was being watched by multiple eyes but as he turned his head to look, he found no one there. The trio finally stopped at a dark wood door at the back of the orphanage. The sign above the door read, Mr. Wool’s Office.

The blond woman gave two quick knocks on the door.

“Come in,” called a feminine voice with a scratchy quality to it.

The door creaked as the blond opened it and there, sitting in the chair, was an old woman with many greying hairs. She was holding a bottle of Gin as she stared into a fireplace that was to the side of her desk.

The blond woman cleared her throat before speaking, “Mrs Cole we got another one.”

The old woman slowly lifted her eyes from the fireplace to glare at Henry and the woman, who now started to get wet hair, “no, leave! we don't have enough food to feed two unwanted souls!”

Henry shifted his feet an lowered his eyes to the dirty floor. If only they were asking for shelter and food.

“Mrs Cole that's not it at all, the boy-“

The old woman gifted up a hand to silence the blond, “okay, olay Martha. I got it, another orphan.”

Martha sadly smiled at Mrs Cole and turned to Henry with loving hazel eyes, “I’ll be waiting outside the office when you are ready to go.”

Martha quickly left and closed the door. Meanwhile Mrs Cole sneered at the dark haired woman white taking a piece of paper out.

‘Really girl?” The said ‘girl’ scowled, “anyway, give me the boy’s name, age, birthday, and whatnot.”

“His name's’ Henry Otto Van-Hoensbroeck, born August 13th 1927, and he’s nine.”

Mrs Cole’s brows lifted, “Dutch?”

The woman scoffed and gave a brisk nod, “you may leave I would like to speak to Henry.”

With one final look of annoyance the woman gave Henry, the wet haired lady swept out of the room. Mrs Cole’s eyes never left her until the door banged shut. She still stared at the door when she started talking to Henry.

“She’s not coming back.”

Henry’s emerald eyes closed with sorrow and he quietly whispered, “I know.”

There was a moment of silence, then, “stay out of trouble and try to get adopted are the two largest rules. You can only eat at meal times, don't care if you eat or not. If you get sick then its your problem for getting sick. All children have to return to the orphanage by 8 pm -10 pm for the fourteens and ups. When you turn sixteen you’re out of here, got it?”

Henry’s eyes trailed from the floor, to the desk, and then to Mrs Cole’s chin, “yes ma’am.”

The old woman sighed, put the paper away, and said, “good now get out, “ before taking a swing from her bottle of Gin.

Henry silently made his way to the door. A brief look of surprise took over his face as he saw Martha staring off into space. When Martha noticed Henry she gave him a grin.

“Come on young one, let me show you to your room.”

Henry obediently followed her up two flights of stairs, until she stopped at a room that had a number to its right, 32.

“This shall be your room, although you are sharing it with two other boys.”

Seeing that Henry still had his eyes on the floor Martha kneeled down to his eye level, “it will be okay. Someday you are going to find a family that was just like your old one, you’ll see.”

Henry’s sorrowful eyes flicked to meet Martha’s pitying. He forced himself to smile. Martha squeezed his shoulder before walking off.

The boy forced himself to stay calm, for with calm comes control and Henry needed to feel control right now. With how his life turned to shambles and being left in an orphanage with nothing but his wet clothes, Henry didn't know if he could make it. He looked out a window at the end of the staircase. It was pitch black outside, with heavy snowfall. Henry stared at the end of the hallway window with despair.

“So many lies mother, so many lies,” he turned the knob and entered his new living quarters.

Harry Potter awoke with tears glistening in his eyes for the small child in his dream.


	2. -The Cockroach-

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Some folks say that through your dreams your subconscious speaks to you; Harry was never one of those folk. He just thought that dreams are nothing more than a concoction of your day and thoughts…. well until Harry starts having dreams of a young boy who looks strangely alike to himself. To what lengths will Harry have to go to find out who this young man is, and when the truth finally comes out will Harry be able to cope with it?
> 
> Van-Hoensbroeck: Dutch surname with aristocratic origins, dates back to the medieval era.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ha! Told you this chapter will be longer...(I’m so proud of myself I usually never write more than 1,000 words per chapter)  
> Hope you enjoy this chapter!
> 
> Best wishes, EchoMist3477

“Harry are you okay?” Harry glanced up to see Hermione’s soft eyes looking down at him.

Harry nodded his head.

Hermione’s soft features hardened at the nod, “I know you’re lying. You haven't talked at all today! Is it because of the summer?”

Harry’s eyes traveled to his lap where his hands were fidgeting with a rubber band, “you know I already forgave you guys for that.”

Hermione took a deep breath before taking a seat next to Harry on the dusty navy blue settee, “then what is it then? Everyone is worried sick about you, especial me and Ron.”

“Why?” Harry still didn't look up.

“Why? why you ask? Its because you haven't talked to anyone except Sirius for days and when you do talk to him it's only a few words!.... Harry it's been a week since the dementor attack….are you….in….depression?”

Harry’s eyes snapped to meet Hermione’s. But before he could even open his mouth he noticed her eyes colour. Hazel. Almost the same shade as the blond caretaker from his dream. Harry looked down again. The dream was still to fresh. He could practically feel Henry’s sorrow and despair. It was maddening to say the least.

The rubber band snapped, “No ‘Mione, I’m fine. The dementors didn't do anything to me.” They started a little before the attack anyways.

Harry rudded the spot where the elastic hit him with a frown, “I’m perfectly fine....just worried about this school year.”

Hermione placed her palm on top of Harry’s sore hand. Harry flinched at the contact. Henry’s mother always placed her hand on top of his when Henry was to act ‘proper’. Since the dementor attack Harry had been having dreams about Henry's life. At first Harry thought it was a side effect from the dementors -he forgot about the dreams before the attack. Maybe it was some poor bloke’s memories the dementor sucked out? But Harry knew it wasn't a side effect. His experience with them in third year proved so. It was something else, something completely different.

God, Harry just wanted to bang his head on the mini coffee table. He didn't need anymore strange occurrences in his life, especial if they messed with his emotions. Merlin knew he already had enough of those.

“Well I hope you get better….and please Harry,” here Hermione glanced pleadingly at him, “if something is wrong you know we will always listen to you; me, Ron, Sirius, and anyone in the order,” She took away her warm hand, “goodnight Harry.”

Harry stared after her with blank eyes. He didn't think he could tell anyone. They would probably call him looney or say it's nothing and furthermore telling them would feel like telling a dangerous and dark secret.

Harry sighed. Maybe it was time to sleep? Who knows, maybe today would be his lucky day and he won't dream? But who was Harry kidding, of course he would dream! He didn't have any nights where he didn’t. He almost wished he had nightmares instead, at least with nightmares you didn't get affected by all emotions; you only got affected by fear, guilt, and sorrow. Unlike his dreams were he experienced, loneliness, betrayal, determination, anger, hope, worthlessness, dread, and everything else.

Harry stood from the settee and walked out the old, dust filled drawing room. As he walked through the halls of 12 Grimmauld-place Harry couldn't help but feel a level of unworthiness. Here he was about to go and sleep in the same room with his friend, when some people, like Henry (for some unknown reason Tom Riddle’s face appeared in his mind as well) don't even have the luxury-

Wait. Like Henry? Since when did Harry even give a thought that Henry might be real or was once/is alive? Harry shook his head, it was too late to think about who is and isn't real. So Harry discarded his thought as he passed the kitchen. A angry voice stopped him in his tracks.

“We only have a few more weeks until Hogwarts starts, let me take him out for a few days! Everyone can see that the kid needs a breather!”

A much more calmer voice spoke next, “Sirius its to dangerous for you and Harry to leave, and must we remind you that you are still a wanted criminal?”

Sirius scoffed, “I’ll be careful, you know I can be carefu-“

“It doesn't matter if you are careful, have you forgotten about You-Kno-....Voldemort?”

“No I haven't, but have you seen how Harry acts? He needs air and a new environment, he goes to Hogwarts and everyone will start either looking up to him or calling him a brat….Remus please.”

A new voice joined in, “I tried to talk to him Prof- Remus….he doesn't look good.”

Harry could practically hear the smugness in Sirius’s voice, “ha, two against one. What do you say Remus?”

Remus breathed out a long out sigh, “the answer is still no. We all heard Albus. It isn't safe out there.”

There was a pause as though no one knew what to say, then,”thank you Hermione. You and Ron must try to life-up Harry’s mood, alright?”

“Alr-“

“Oh dam! It's one in the morning, time for all of us to retire,” there was a moment of silence, “sorry.”

To not get caught eavesdropping Harry started to move again up the stairs. He felt a bit of fury when he realized exactly why he and Sirius can't go out...because Dumbledore said so. Harry felt like screaming. Sirius was right, he was feeling as though he was suffocating. Everything from the dreams to what the prophet was prining about him, it was just...uh !

Harry stopped at his and Ron’s room and squeezed the door handle until his hand turned white. He tiptoed towards his bed as silent as a mouse and got under his cold covers.

Harry forced his eyes to stay open. He didn't want to dream today. His day was bad enough. And to add on to his determination to stay awake was the feeling that Harry would meet someone in his dreams. Someone who he despises and is an orphan. Tom Riddle. Harry felt sick, but alas, the lull of sleep and the subconscious need to find out what happens next to Henry drove Harry to close his eyes and dream.

And dream he did, the moment Harry’s eyes flicked open he wasn't Harry the Boy-Who-Lived anymore. He was Henry the orphan.

><><><><

Henry groaned as he felt a small shove to his side. He didn't want to get up, yesterday was tiring and cold and he just wanted to rest some more. He didn't want to feel yet.

“Hey….are you awake?” Asked a quiet voice to Henry's right.

Henry didn't bestow the question with an answer.

But still the whispers continued, “who are you? Are you staying here for long or….not?”

That caused Henry to rub his eyes and turn towards the voice whispering, “my….mum left me here because of….money issues. And I'm Henry.”

Henry moved his aching limbs into a sitting position and stared at the speecher. What he found surprised him. For standing there was a dirty blond boy with his hair up to his soldiers. He had one green and one brown eye but what surprised Henry the most was how well groomed the boy was. The boy looked healthy, not a single rid showed through his to small faded brown shirt. He had soft fawn like features but quite an ugly crooked nose. The boy was clearly still young as well. If Henry could. he would wager that he was the same age as him.

“Well it's great to meet ya Henry, I’m Maxwell.” Maxwell grinned and brought up a hand to shake.

Henry took the boy’s hand and shyly smiled back, “it’s a pleasure as well to meet you Maxwell.”

The boy snickered, “you’re a cultured one, aren't ya?”

Henry shrugged and looked down at his dangling bear feet, “i guess.”

Maxwell rolled his eyes before pointing towards the other side of the room where on one cot there was a dark haired sleeping boy.

“That’s Billy, he’s let's say not the most friendly. Also I’m really happy that you choose the bed next to me, “at that Maxwell pointed at the empty cot on the other side of the room next to Billy’s, “Billy doesn't like sharing his space, the last boy who took that bed when yours was empty ran away a few days after his arrival....of course it could have been Riddle’s falt.”

Henry shivered. He was quite happy that he choose the cot closest to the window instead of the one next to the door and thus right next to Billy’s.

Henry’s stomach growled, causing a blush to rise up to his ears, “do you know when breakfast starts?”

Maxwell shrugged his shoulders, “it starts at seven thirty...I think, but I don't have a watch.”

“Oh.”

Maxwell jumped from his bed and took Henry’s arm. Henry tried not to flinch, “come on we usually smell the food if we go to the bottom floor.”

Henry obediently followed the boy as they traveled the silent orphanage. They entered a room full of chairs and tables. Henry’s noise twiched at the smell of...something. He couldn't say exactly what though.

“Oh my we are probably the last ones here, quick let's get into line.”

Maxwell dropped his arm and ran to stand in line that was fourteen people long. Henry hesitantly made his way towards the line.

It was very strange for Henry to stand in a line, waiting for food. At ‘home’ he always just waited for his mother to finish eating. There was no need for everyone to eat at once, which is what was clearly happening as two girls took their food and went to sit with a table with three other girls. What stange children these are.

When there was only five people in front of Maxwell and him, Henry felt someone step in behind him. He turned around to see if it was Billy. It was not. Instead of seeing the big boy with whom he shared a room with Henry saw a boy with dark brown hair and annoyed grey eyes.

When Henry’s emerald eyes met grey, the other boy had no smile on his face. It wasn't the worst greeting Henry ever heard but it surely did not compare to how Maxwell greeted him or how the neighbors greeted him back...home. Henry pushed the feeling of misery away and concentrated on the boy.

The boy spoke blandly, “are you new here? I haven't seen you around before.”

Henry didn't even try to smile, good manners aside, “yes I’m new. I just arrived yesterday night.”

The other boy’s eyes lit up with some form of excitement, “so what's your name?”

Henry’s lips twitched into a small smile, this boy isn't as bad as he thought he would be given the not so pleasant introduction, “I’m Henry.”

The boy lifted his head with a bit of arrogance, “I’m Tom, Tom Riddle,” as an after though Tom added, “you should get ready to move forward, the line is moving up.”

Henry gave Tom a small smile which Tom returned happily. The other boy was about to speak again but he was interrupted by a gasp.

“Henry dont talk to Riddle!” Maxwell grabbed him by his arm and spun him so that Henry was in front of Maxwell.

Tom aimed a glare at Maxwell and turned his stormy eyes to look expectantly at Henry. Henry didn't know what to do. He never was in a situation like this before. So he looked at his feet in defeat, while remembering what is mother taught him. If you don't know what to do, do absolutely nothing.

Henry heard Tom scoff.

Maxwell turned back to look at Henry and put his hand on his shoulder, “I’ll tell you everything later Henry. I was so stupid, I should have told you while we went here.”

Henry gave a small nod and tried to smile at Maxwell. His smiled looked more like a grimace though.

It was Henry’s turn to get food, so he grabbed a bowl and waited patiently for the woman to spoon some oatmeal into his bowl from a giant cooking pot.

The woman had a sour look to herself. Her eyes didn't meet Henry’s nor did she even utter a hello. So Henry didn't either. He took a metal spoon and waited for Maxwell to get his food.

Maxwell took his oatmeal and started walking to a table in the middle where two other boys sat. Seeing that Henry wasn't following him he turned around to becken Henry over. Henry happily walked over to sit with the boys. Henry didn't even feel the pair of stormy grey eyes following his every step.

All conversation stopped as Henry plopped himself into the only empty chair. None of the boys introduced themselves nor did they greet him, so Henry cast down his eyes and ate his food.

Maxwell was the first to break the suffocating awkwardness at their table, “so everyone this is Henry. Henry this is George, and Jacob.”

Henry lifted his eyes to meet the two pairs of curious eyes, “hello.”

Jacob gave Henry a sad grin, “so what brought you to Wool’s?”

Henry looked at his oatmeal, “....money issues.”

Henry took another spoonful of oatmeal. He forgot the last time he had something as simple as oatmeal. When he was with his mother they always ate the most complicated and flavorful breakfast. He didn't know what to feel, joy for finally getting a taste of oatmeal or sadness for the orange juice and pancakes with blueberries that he most definitely will never be having again in his life.

George was the next to join the conversation, “ah, same here…. So I saw you talking to Riddle earlier…”

“Yeah about that Henry, you shouldn't be making nice chit-chat with him. He's evil!”

“Like remember the time he placed a snake’s skin in Amy’s bed, like gross!” That was Jacob.

Henry felt a shudder run down his spine, gross indeed.

“Hey Maxwell-“

“Call me Max”

“Okay….Max, why didn't we wake up Billy? Isn't he hungry?”

“Billy never eats breakfast, rumor has it it's because Riddle put a cockroach in his oatmeal two days after Billy came here,” saying that Jacob took a spoon of oatmeal into his mouth.

Henry stared in horror as the three boys ate their meal. For some reason he felt as though he wasn't hungry anymore. He pushed his food away.


End file.
